


Shooting Stars Rarely Collide

by Cant_We_Just_Dance



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Metaphors, Office AU, Plot Twists, Stars, overly poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 23:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12543852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cant_We_Just_Dance/pseuds/Cant_We_Just_Dance
Summary: Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson are glimmering stars in the universe of pure midnight darkness. Shooting stars rarely collide- but when they do? Such brilliance could not even be imagined.





	Shooting Stars Rarely Collide

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to @mexicaan and @synonym-roll on tumblr for beta-ing!

Shooting stars rarely collide.

When they do, it is an almost incomparable supernova of astronomical proportions. Glimmering gleams of the brightest light shining throughout the universe as they dance in a way that is almost magical. Almost perfect, in each strike of pure energy omitting from them, in every little spark of the flames, in all the ways it was ever so improbable and yet had already occurred.

The universe, after all, is known for its vast emptiness, its sheer lack of most things except for the parts that are quite the opposite. Stars shimmering across the darkness are always so vibrant in the trails they leave behind, some lasting far longer than others. Other times, they leave almost no trace on the galaxy they belonged to.

And Alexander Hamilton was dedicated to not becoming a star that crossed the sky and left no trace of itself. Unluckily for him, Thomas Jefferson was of a similar state of mind. Both were stars, yes, glowing and shining in a way that others found impossible- but neither glowed the same shine.

Alexander’s was near-blinding in his glowing, each speck of light so shimmering through the pitch-blackness of his universe that one might have thought it was a mess of spilled glitter and sequins that formed blades and paper cuts on your fingers. Somehow though, it had yet to burn out in a mess of energy, instead opting to continue feeding the flames and striking the skies with its stray shimmers.

Jefferson’s, however, shone in a different light. Instead of blinding, it was an eye-catching level of gleam, a bold contrast to its surroundings. When whatever it was around became blue, it was orange, when the skies were painted the pain beige of an office building, it chose a bright magenta shade. Although its light was not highly concentrated, it was almost equal to Alexander’s. However, it happened to take up more space, spreading and curling and twirling out on his stray curls of dark hair that caught the light just so and bounced off into the atmosphere.

When these two shooting stars shot off in the same direction, the light around them was almost unbearable to experience. Punching you in the face with sharp remarks and even sharper retorts, as if they were swords being tossed back and forth toward one’s rather playful enemy. Each and every written sentence seemed held together by stitched seams at all syllables, barely holding back the arguments and quiet resentment in each motion of hands typing on the keyboard they reluctantly shared.

And despite the efforts that were necessary in order for the two men to cooperate, the end product was as brilliant as the sun in the sky, more incandescently elegant than moonlight on still water at half past midnight on a December Tuesday night. Their words, no matter how hard-won and argued over, always seemed to lull their reader into a false sense of security, one where they could not even comprehend thinking of a counterargument to those being made in the papers.

So maybe starlight reached out for the other in those moments. Perhaps the words used as weapons were softened gradually, brought up into sweetness, verging on kindness. If one man fell, the other would pull him up off the ground, but not help brush off the dust from their waistcoat. If Alexander stayed at the office past the hours where his own starlight was almost visible, Thomas would walk into his office and taunt him lightly for it, almost egging him on toward heading home to his no-doubt empty apartment. Because someone like Alexander couldn’t possibly have a rich life outside of work- the man practically lived at his office desk, the carpet having permanent track marks from his frequent pacing.

When two beings spend their time in such close proximity, their heat waves bounce back off of the other and back onto the other, hotter than before. Thomas had been finding his way across the sky and his place in the world when Alexander’s shimmering brilliance entered his mind. While Alexander resented Thomas for daring to glow just as brightly, Thomas had felt his heart drop as he gazed at the beauty of Alexander’s work. 

Palms became sweaty each time he clenched them in false anger at the shorter man, his eyes narrowed in only frustration instead of fury, and the world was not a sky where only he was meant to shine. There was no worry in his heart caused by the knowledge that he was no longer the brightest in the sky. 

As long as the passion burned in his heart, he sought no reason to douse the flames of the man he claimed to envy. The only thing he envied was whoever had been so lucky as to know Alexander’s embrace, the feel of his lips in a kiss instead of an argument.

Who had ever been so lucky as to have such a light in their life, to only be so unlucky as to have such light think of him as the midnight darkness that he must drown out? In such a world where Thomas would reach out toward his starlight, he might hold Alexander by the hands and ask him in a quiet voice to grasp his hands in return. The Earth would cease in its spinning, if just for a moment when Alexander leaned forward and placed a kiss in the corner of his lips, gentle and burning brighter than his own brilliance.

And in that moment, Thomas knew that the stars in their eyes would emerge and collide.

Alas, not all shooting stars collide. In fact, very few of them even come close to such a fate. Instead, they cast their light upon the skies and allow undeservingly human eyes to watch their glory. On a certain spring day, far past the December nights Thomas so adored with his Alexander which was not truly his, Jefferson learned this the hard way.

“Hamilton!” Thomas called out, just as the shorter man was about to lock the door to his well-used office space. Stepping forward, Thomas bit his lip and nervously ran his fingers through the tightly coiled curls of his hair that shone out like a midnight halo. 

“Did I leave something in your office from our last project?” Alexander questioned, turning the key as his key ring jangled like the twinkling of stars in his eyes and shoved the mess of metal into his suit pocket. “Because I’m sure it could wait until tomorrow.”

“I...I was wondering…” Thomas began, doing his best to maintain eye contact with the other an as he felt his heart racing in his chest, beating like a drum. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight? I know a pretty nice place just around here, and it’s fairly cheap and we can discuss work, too, since the tables are pretty big…”

“...And you’re not messing with me?” Alexander inquired, tone cautious as he crossed his arms protectively.

“No, I’m not,” Thomas replied quietly, feeling his heart swell with pride and joy at what would almost definitely be the answer. “I actually want to have dinner with you at the Chinese place down the street.”

“...I’d like that,” Alexander answered, smiling softly and grabbing his briefcase off the floor and pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to call my wife really quick to tell her I’m having a business dinner tonight, she understands how the industry can be.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you loved reading this as much as I loved writing it, please make sure to tell me so in the comments!


End file.
